I'm Sorry, Spider

I wept today.

I am learning to meditate. I suck at it. I suppose I will for a while. But in some other-worldy way I think I made progress. I was in a guided meditation group this evening. I was as relaxed as I could be. I was taken to a point where my loved ones are supposed to meet me. And just like last time... there were only animals. I'm not clear on how this is supposed to work... well, I have an idea. But I'm pretty fuzzy. The last time I got to this point the animlas that greeted me were my loyal compadres, Tibet, Pete, & Talbot. Today, they were there again, but also Katie showed up. Katie is the cat I had until a few years ago. Talbot never knew Katie, but Tibet & Pete did. During this visit something occured to me.

I asked myself, why are there no people? I started looking around for my grandparents. I kind of felt like my grandfather was around, or at least his influence. And suddenly I became very sad. I felt alone. I shouldn't have, but I did. My friends were there. My dogs, my last cat. My current cat, Goliath, must still be out chasing birds or something. He hasn't been around yet.
So I was wondering why I had living and dead animals there.

But then, my brain working the way it does, started analyzing. That's what I do. I analyze. They say half of analysis is anal anyway. :-)

I wasn't alone, but I felt it. Then I realized people were missing and that means something. And I think I know. So I became sad and wept.

Then came the point where my "guide" takes me to another place to meet my teacher while my loved ones waited for me at the safe place. Hmm, trouble was, there was no guide. It was my intuition telling me to go over there. So I went. I don't know if I was in the right place, but I didn't perceive any other paths. There was no teacher. There was a pool of water. I peered into the pool. I thought of the scene in LOTR where Frodo looks into the well and sees the past, present, and what has not yet come to pass. No, I didn't see Frodo or Sauron or orcs ravaging the countryside. I saw the shimmering surface of a pool that didn't reflect anything, nor did it reveal anything beneath the surface.

What was I supposed to think. I was really alone. So there goes my brain.... I'm alone because I don't let anyone in or I'm alone because there is still something I'm supposed to figure out before my guide and teacher are revealed. Or I'm alone b/c I am my own teacher (is that arrogant or what?). Hey, I can't control these ideas any more than I can control my emotions.

I was so consumed with these thoughts I lost contact w/ the group facilitator. I came out of my state to find tears pooled in my eyes and as I blinked they were squeezed out. I glanced around (I know, I cheated) and saw the others still in their places. I tried to get back and managed to find myself leaving the pool. But still alone and I felt a pang of sadness that excited my ducts again and more elixer of salty sadness dripped out onto my cheek.

My sinuses followed and for a brief moment I had to breath through my mouth. I lost focus.
I tried to get back to my safe place right about the same time the facilitator brought us back there. But this time there was something different. A totem was there with my loved ones. I was surprised, for this was new to me. What appeared actually made me feel a little better, but in the same instant I grew sad again, even more than before. This (what I'm assuming to be one of my totems) was a spider. What made me sad is the flash of memory that came to me where I mistreated a spider once as a kid. I remember it so vividly. This is one of those haunting memories that I never escape. I don't think I am meant to escape it. I actually want to keep it b/c it reminds me of what "humanity" has done our mother Earth and her children....

I remember what I did.....

I was living in El Paso. I was about 7 or 8 years old. I spent a lot of time outside as a kid. There is this mountain range running through El Paso, the Franklin Mountains. We lived close to the foothills. I would roam around these hills quite a bit and explore. This one particular day another boy & I were doing just that. We were crossing this fairly wide drainage ditch and half way across we enountered a tarantula. We freaked and bolted to the other side. So this kid and I started throwing rocks at it from a distance. This is when I regret having a good aim. We must have hurled about 30 rocks at this spider. Poor thing, it was so exposed in the middle of the concrete ditch and it was getting pelted by stones whichever direction it tried to run. First it would tumble once or twice when we hit it. Soon a leg fell off, then another and before too long it was motionless with only 2 or 3 of its legs attached. The others were scattered. A couple of the legs were torn in two. The other boy and I celebrated. We were real heroes. We vanquished the evil master of terror! I was just a kid. A stupid, pudgy little kid with a good arm.

That event is a conerstone in my memory bank as a life changing event. It didn 't change my life then. But it did later. If that was supposed to be some sacrifice for me to learn the value of life and all Earth's creatures (except mosquitos... hey, gotta draw the line somewhere) then its a crappy lesson. It hurts me still. I still weep when I think of that spider.

So is this why the spider appeared to me? Is this a message? Is this the spider telling me that "Hey, kid. You were young and stupid, but you are the better for it now." I don't know but I sure hope so. Because, truthfully, I'm an advocate for spiders now. I have been for many years. I think they, like snakes, have endured despite being so wrongfully maligned for so many centuries. Some lessons hurt.

I'm sorry Spider. I won't do it again. I promise.

Sorry about the delay :-)

Hey all.  I finally got around to finishing Talbot's Tale.  I'm sorry it took so long.  It was more than a week ago that I presented the third installment.  I had family come in from out of town, and I spent the weekend at the beach.  More on that next time.  But for now... check out the last chapter of Talbot's Tale.  Thanks again for visiting!  It means a lot to me!

Have a great day!

Be well

Stephan

Talbot's Tale: Family

You have seen the improvement thus far.  He has come quite along quite nicely, wouldn't you say?  He was actually looking forward to meals now.  He was excited to see me or the other dogs, although he wasn't able to socialize until around mid December.  Looking back at previous posts, I realized that I said Talbot was quarantined until January.  Well, to be more precise... he was still in the crate until January, but already socializing.  Sorry about the mix up.

It was at this point that I started to look for a home for Talbot.  I spread the word.  My search began in earnest once Talbot had no more bald patches.  He walked around with a perpetual smile.  He was crate trained and potty trained and (to this day) had no "accidents" in the house.  He was ready to go to a good home.

Here, take a look... would you be interested?

Irresistible, huh!  I mean come on!

Who wouldn't want to take this guy home.

His tail was a virtual perpetual motion machine when people were around.  He got along great with other dogs.  Get him now while he is young, I said.  

I brought the crate inside, but not before giving it a thorough scrubbing, thrice!

I thought about burning a box of incense in there, but as it turned out it wasn't necessary.  If you ever need to get the smell of mange out of a crate, use bleach... lots of bleach.  And be sure to be in a well ventilated area outside.  And please wear goggles and a respirator.  I figured that out the hard way.  So in cleaning the crate, I looked something like this....

Ok, so I didn't actually wear the hat, but I thought it would be cool for effect!  And that towel thingy on my scalp... yeah, I didn't actually wear that either.  :-)

But I digress.

So I get the crate all cleaned up.  After much deliberation I put it in the living room.  I was expecting a real yelp-fest that first night.  

It started right on cue.... 90 seconds after "lights out".  The scratching of the wall, the high pitched yelping which in human translates to "Hey moron, you forgot about me in here!  Hey you.... yeah you I don't wanna be in here!."  After a few stanzas of the canine lament, he changes strategy.  He goes from the "I'm a pathetic wretch"  whimpering, to the "Calling all Canines" to the rescue approach.  Something between a bark and short howl in a pitch just high enough to let all dogs from here to Toronto know that a puppy is desperately needing aid.

So here I am, in my bed, listening to this.  Despite expecting this to happen, I'm still annoyed. Tibet & Pete didn't budge.  Pete slept.  How the hell he could sleep through this racket I will never know, but he slept.  You won't be seeing Pete on the cover of "Rescue Dogs Today" anytime soon.  Tibet, on the other hand, lay there with her jaw on her front paws and her eyes fixed on me.  Uh-huh... yeah you know the look.  Its the same look a dog gives you right before he goes to pee on the rug... the "If you don 't do something about this..." look.

I told her to be expecting this.  She finally sighed and rolled to her side and tried to sleep, but just couldn't.  Pete, on the other hand, was probably chasing rabbits or something.  He was gone.  His paws would twitch every so often, but he didn't wake up.

Too bad, Talbot.  No dogs are coming to your rescue tonight.  I'm not sure how long it took for Talbot to give up, but it really wasn't so bad.  He quit after about 15 minutes.  Seriously, all that drama was in a short amount of time.  (Thankfully!)  So I was impressed. (still annoyed)

Talbot continued the routine the next night, but by the 3rd night, he was quiet after about 15 seconds of pawing at the gate.  I thought he would be mad at me in the mornings, but he wasn't.  He was Talbot.  He was happy to see me. His tail was wagging and he was smiling.  He greeted me first then went to Pete & Tibet.  They all went outside and did their business.  That in itself was kind of amusing.  Maybe one day I'll tell you guys about Brazos, the "Crap eater" as I called him.  Yeah, he was a character... but that's another story.  Back to Talbot...

So he was getting along with Pete & Tibet.  I started taking them on walks.  I was thinking about how easy it would be to find this guy a home.  He's potty trained, gets along well with others, leash trained.  Not to mention he was cute as hell.  Just look above again... see what I mean?  Who wouldn't?  Right...? Well..... not so fast, Speed Racer!

The first time I had friends come over while Talbot was in he house he freaked.  I was not ready for this.  My mother made regular visits.  Remember that she was there from day one... well, two actually... but you get the point.  So he was cool with her.  But not so cool with new people.

Oh boy.  Problem.

Damn! I thought.  He was doing so well.  And he was.  There was a hitch, though.  Call it the fine print.  He was horribly afraid of new people or dogs.  I thought of what he looked like when I found him and rapidly came to the conclusion that he was that way b/c of people in the first place.  Now what?  

So begins the slow process of socializing.  This created a problem when it came to finding a home for him.  I'm cynical by nature.  I half expect things to go wrong.  And unless I'm totally convinced that someone could provide the right home environment for this guy, I wasn't handing him over.  I had to be sure. Especially after all we endured and what he's been through.  Poor guy.  He needed structure and love.  It didn't really strike me at the time... but he was getting that at my house.  That is why he was doing well at home.  Hindsight is always 20/20.

I did what I could to take him out and have more friends come over.  He did improve.  In fact, just recently, when I went to the VHPA reunion,  I had a friend help me out by feeding my critters in my absence.  Chris had never been to my house before.  So a few days before my trip, Chris came by to meet the kids and learn where everything is.  Of course Talbot was nervous, but even to my surprise, he had his head on Chris's lap inside of 20 minutes.  Progress!

Of course Talbot is 3 years old now and has been exposed to numerous animals and people.  He still requires caution, but he is soooooo much better.  Much less nervous around strangers.   Some new dogs he hardly notices.

Well, in case you haven't noticed the obvious here, I kept him.   Yeah, yeah, people who know me say they saw it coming.  Despite my efforts, I kept the rascal.  My mother put a flyer up at the athletic club, I placed an ad in the paper.  I send out emails with pictures at the office to about 200 people.  I really tried.  But for those who believe in fate or providence, here is a story that supports your belief.  :-)  It isn't a bad thing.  He is a good dog.

So, my friends.  Once again I come to the end of a tale... Talbot's Tale.  And now I bid you a fond adieu with some parting shots.... here you go, folks....

Presenting Talbot: Family

Talbot's Tale: All better!

Welcome back my friends. I'm glad you returned for the 3rd installment of Talbot's Tale. (One more to go)

Talbot was making progress nicely. The stink (I can still smell it) was waning gradually, though not fast enough. Talbot looked a little better every day. He was eating regularly, and of course this means it was coming out the other end rather regularly as well. Can you say "P-Yew"? The possums kept watching him from the distance... "Is he one of ours?" I'm sure they were wondering. :-) Pepe Le Pieu would have been proud! Of course his newly implemented diet, when mixed with his treatment regimen of dips & meds, left for a unique blend of ... ahem.... poop. (Can I say scat for dogs too?)

Despite that, he was recovering nicely. His fur was starting to grow in. The sores were getting smaller. His demeanor was becoming more and more like a dog should be... happy. It brought great joy to watch this. I couldn't wait to get home from work each day. I looked forward to playing with him and teaching him things... like to sit & stay (I said, SIT)... basic stuff. It got to the point that I could hear his tail knocking on the wall of the kennel when I got out of my truck. What a good boy!

Here is another video after we agreed on his name:



You can almost see the smile! Here are a couple pics:

His cuteness is really starting to show. Here is another video of a more active Talbot. He really enjoyed going places. I was walking him now and taking to visit my mother. She was always happy to see him.

Despite his progress, I still had to wait a while longer before I could socialize him. But he certainly was eager to meet the rest of the family! And they him. :-) What a proud papa I was!

As the weeks passed, we had our white xmas. Unfortunately I wasn't able to take him out with the other dogs yet, but he still got to experience the snow.

Talbot was learning where the poop stations are in the yard. I was busy enough picking up after 2 dogs. Now I had a 3rd one added to my poop-patrol. I was running a regular crap factory! Too bad there is no market for this stuff. At least horse and cow manure is sought after. Maybe I should post a sign in my yard, "Crappus a la Cannis Available Here. We Poop it, You Scoop It!" Kind of catchy, don't you think? :-)

With the little stinker not so stinky any more, I would let him roam the house while Tibet & Pete were outside. When I was out front w/ Talbot, he nuzzle the fence to greet the other dogs on the other side. Pete's (remember the lethal weapon tail?) response was one of excitement! He gave Tibet a few good whacks upside her muzzle with his tail when Talbot was close. Poor Tibet... she wanted to get a look at the little rascal too, but Pete's convulsive tail-shaking made it a real obstacle course for her to approach the gate. It was kind of funny to watch her try to duck under his tail with her eyes squinted. She still got batted a few times.

Finally, the time was nigh for the dogs to meet. I think I was more nervous than the dogs. Talbot couldn't wait. Pete was anxious to try out the new toy. Tibet just wanted to see what all the hooplah was about.

So, once again, my friends, I leave you with some anticipation (I hope) for the final installment of Talbot's Tale: Family.
Until then,
Be well,

Stephan

Talbot's Tale: Recovery

Talbot’s Tale: Recovering

I’m back & apparently you are too. Are you ready for the next installment of Talbot’s Tale? I left off with the inauguration of Talbot’s name. He seemed to like it. After all, he looked at me when I said it. Then again, he looked at me when I called him “Numb-nuts” too. The important thing here, is that he responds. I was happy for that. He was responsive, albeit, a little delayed at times. It was kind of hard to watch this guy constantly scratching himself. I just wanted to grab a rake and do it for him. He seemed so delicate. I picked him up frequently and gave him hugs (despite the rammish odor) from time to time. It didn’t take long for him to relax when I handled him. He got used to my camera. I think he actually posed sometimes. Like in the pic…




It was one of the few times he sat still long enough for me to press the shutter button. While he was recovering, this crate was his home. He looked so sad in there. It was bad enough to be itchy, flaky, and scratchy. Then to be cooped up in this glorified gerbil cage is no more thrilling than watching paint dry. He couldn’t get well fast enough. I knew he would get better. But admittedly, there was a part of me that liked this because it gave me a sense of purpose. Call it my maternal instinct, if you will. I liked caring for him. I liked being there for every step of his recovery. And apparently I liked crispy flakey canine skin on my clothes, because some of my shirts looked like glitter had been sprinkled over them.

I let him out as much as I could. He seemed clever. He figured out the parameters of the yard pretty quickly. He was responsive to my voice. Good sign. He will make a great companion for someone one day. I thought to myself. Even then, I did not intend to keep him. I already had 2. And I really didn’t want a 3rd… really. But I wasn’t about to hand over a sickly pup. I had to see his recovery through.

Also, here is the first video I took of Talbot… but he wasn’t named at the time. The video gives you a better idea of what watching this guy was like. Mind you, this was going on for weeks. I brought him home in October. This was about 3 weeks later. He still had a long way to go. But I tell you, I never had children, but this was probably the closest I have ever felt to actually raising someone. I had little proud moments whenever he showed progress. Each day was one day closer to him being better and eventually a healthy dog. But also, each day brought a little more warmth to my heart.



Remember in the last post when I said I’m not sure who is luckier? Maybe now you understand a little better. As much as I cared for him… he did something for me. I learned something about the capacity for love in my own heart. Don’t get me wrong… It isn’t as though my heart was empty or full of malice. It was nothing like that. What I learned through Talbot was simply this: No matter how much we have in our hearts, whether joy or sadness, whether hope or despair, or even iniquity… there can always be love. One can’t ever be truly sated from love. At least I don’t think so. There is always room for more.

So, my friends, this concludes Talbot’s second chapter. Tune in next time… (I’ve always wanted to say that) for the next installment. You will see Talbot as he is now. Trust me… you won’t believe the difference!

Thank you again for taking the time to read this. I really mean it when I say I appreciate it. It means a lot to me that you take time out of your day for this. I hope you find some pleasure in reading my stories. I enjoy writing them and sharing.

Until next time,
Be Well

Stephan

About Talbot

I don't know who is luckier, him or me. In fact, my mother tried to name him "Lucky" the first time she saw him. I was trying to avoid naming him at all... you know... trying to avoid that whole attachment thing. Yeah.... that went well! :-)
Anyway, so here's the story....

It was a chilly October morning in 2004. I usually got to work around 7:30AM. I never cared for the morning rush hour traffic so I would leave a little early. It gave me time to relax and have some coffee and read emails before starting to see clients. My office was in the 6 points area, to give you a point of reference. I parked and started walking toward the building, like any other day. After my ritual adjusting of the shoulder harness with one hand and leveling the shaky coffee cup in the other I glanced toward the old (no longer used) exterior elevator door just a bit over to the right of the employee entrance. Did I see right? I thought I saw a subtle fuzzy movement. Naturally, me being of the curious sort, walked over and there.... huddled in a corner and shivering, was this puppy. This poor pathetic wretch of a young dog was struggling to keep out of the wind, which was exacerbated by his lack of protective coat. In fact I had more hair than him. Have you seen me lately? As I crouched toward him his head lowered while eyes stared up at me in utter fear. All the while his front paws struggling for traction against the smooth concrete as he was trying to push himself further into the corner. Poor guy. As I took a step closer still it hit me... WHOA !!! the stench of decay. This little guy needed a couple of rounds in the permanent press cycle with double rinse. I figured a little fabric softener wouldn't hurt :-) My first thought was how could something this little emit an odor so large? Then I thought of new parents and what similar experiences they have w/ their newborns. At any rate.... About this time I aroused the curiosity of one of my coworkers on her way in, also with arms full and juggling the less secure items. Good thing that Courtney also loves animals. I took my stuff inside for a moment while Courtney watched the pup. When I returned she either coaxed or frightened the pup out of its corner as he was walking down the gently sloping loading ramp. He was walking along the edge and peering over the side. His ears swiveled a bit. He had some life left. I honestly wasn't sure as to how much at that time... He looked over the edge like I would be looking off a 10 meter diving platform... with concern for falling, but not really worried if I do. I had some rope in my car and I fashioned a rather crude, but functional, harness for the little squirt. With Courtney's help and excellent lung capacity from holding my breath, I managed to get the harness on the little tyke. ( what he must have been thinking ) Then I noticed the fleas. They had a real community going on there. I swear I saw neon lights, "Buffet. Open All Night" So... here I had this stinky, sparsely pelted, flea bag tied to a rail in the parking lot. What the hell was I gonna do with him for 9 hours? I couldn't take him in. I certainly wasn't going to leave him in my truck. So Courtney and I monitored over the course of the day to make sure he had water. There was always someone in the building with a little kibble around. That part of town is Stray-Central. So, here you go... this is the as yet unnamed dog I found.

So I called my mom and told her the news. I then called my vet and explained the situation but there was no way they could get the runt in that day. So I made an appt for the next day. Since I had to work I asked my mom if she could take him. She was reluctant, but agreed (thanks, Mom). So that evening I set up little stinker in the kennel in the garage. Meanwhile, my other two were looking on curiously from the safe confines of the back yard. You'll meet them in more detail later. Now, keep in mind, when I was little, my (older) sister used to call me "Stinker" all the time. Now she calls her dogs "Stinker". I'm off the hook :-). I used to think it was a term of endearment, but after experiencing this with this puppy, I began to wonder. hehe
So here I have this funky odor machine cranking out maximum stink by the minute in my garage. I didn't fully appreciate the capacity for, nor the gap from stink to putrid! When I opened the door into the garage the next morning I damn near fell over. Holy StenchFest, Batman!! I swear to god my testicles retreated somewhere behind my spleen and wouldn't come out for a week! I wasn't sure if I should feel sorry for my mom or laugh at her for what she was about to endure. The good news in all this... the puppy was still alive. He was sitting up and moving around. He was not eating but he was drinking water. That was something.

I let the dog out and he peed in the grass. He slowly and carefully moved about the driveway and yard. He would twitch a little with every new noise. All I could do was shake my head and give him space. I wondered what this kid saw in his young life. And I mean young. You saw the pic. Maybe 8 or 10 weeks old? As I left for work I left the garage door a little open so the pup could see out. Ahh, whose kidding who, it was to ventilate!

My mom took him to the vet. Apparently one of the customers passed out from the pups stink. (kidding) But I'm surprised my mom didn't. And she had him in her car! Anyway, I was afraid to call my mom to see how it went. The vet wasn't too crazy about providing treatment without pay... at least not not until I got off work. But since my mother promised them that I would come by to pay after work that day they agreed. I mean, why not, I've been going there for over 10 years already. I guess they have problems with people dropping strays off and never returning.

Well, my mom's first comment (predictably) was "Och Mein Gott!" Of course we all know what she was referencing! Yeah, yeah, mom... I know. He stinks. "He is so cute" she said. I laughed. Yes... he is cute. But he is sick and I need to get him well. As it turned out, he was sick. He had Sarcoptic Mange. Aka Scabies. It is contagious to animals AND people. Great! Just what I need, My love life sucked as it was and now I had to worry about skin flaking off my body. How attractive! :-)
It was ok, though. Just had to wash hands a lot. A LOT! I had to take the critter to the vet every other week for a medicated dip and other treatments as his health improved. He had to remain in quarantine for about 3 months. This included the white Christmas we had. Poor kid, had to stay in the garage while I took my other dogs to frolic in the South Texas snow. But he got to play in the yard. Little by little I introduced the guy to the yard while I kept Tibet & Pete inside. Of course they would be at the storm door watching every step the little guy made. Pete's tail was already registered as a weapon. Seeing a new pup to play with only reinforced that registration :-).

So as I watched the pup get better I started thinking about names. In fact, the first few receipts from the vet had "Lucky" as his name. My mom told them that is what she calls him. Yeah, I guess it fits, but it isn't original. So I pondered. I was leaning toward Anton. I slept on it a few days. I am real thorough when it comes to deciding on things that will be permanent. I don't want to regret it later. Then I had all but decided... when the little guy was keeping me company as I was smoking a cigar in my front yard and I looked at him... he looked at me. He smiled and somehow "Talbot" came into my head like lightning. I scratched behind his ear and asked him what he thought. He walked a small circle as if contemplating. Then he sat in the same spot again and looked at me and smiled. So there you have it my friends... Introducing "TALBOT" (to be cont.)

Be well,
Stephan

Good Day

Today has been a good day so far. Actually the past few days have been good. Today I set my alarm early and by 7:15 I was beach bound with my little buddy, Talbot. I like going in the mornings before it gets too hot. The beach was carpeted with 25' wide swath of sea weed. At some points I sank into it up to my knees. Good thing I'm not squeamish. There was an abundance of crabs scuttling about. Some so small I could barely catch a glimpse as they darted around. Other as big as big as my outstretched hand. They didn't dart so much as scurry. Talbot was appropriately curious. He did well. There were few people around so he wasn't nervous. He minded well. He would trot off a little ways ahead and pause to look back to make sure I wasn't too far behind. I get the impression he thought I was too slow. Sorry little buddy, but I'd like to see how fast you move when you're 40! hehe By 10:00 we were packing up (Yes, I'm aware I said "we" as if he helped) I started sweating by 9:30.... just from sitting there. The water was warm, but I didn't spend much time there. Talbot was quite nervous as I went into waist deep water. So upon our return, I put Talbot inside the house and I commenced to doing some cleaning & mowing in the yard. By 2:00 it had been a very productive day. I rewarded myself with a nice 2 hour nap. So now I'm contemplating my evening. I think I will watch "The Golden Compass". I haven't watched it yet and I just d-loaded it. But I might go out with a friend. I called a friend and told him we have cause to celebrate and he needs to buy me a beer. Of course, I left him hanging as to why. I said he would have to wait until I have that beer! I'm so shrewd! hehe

As I was writing about Talbot, I got to thinking, I will do a little series on my critters for you. And I will start with Talbot since I have been talking about him. But I will do that later. For now, I will keep this light. :-)
Yes, it has been a good day.

Be well,
Stephan